


Not what it looks like

by amber_armedheart



Series: The Growing Affair [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amber_armedheart/pseuds/amber_armedheart
Summary: If it was up to Illya, he would have banned the darned expression for being used ever again.





	

-Good evening, Mister Solo - rumbled the heavy voice of Alexander Waverly in the dark, making his top agent almost jump out of the bed with his gun in hand.

It was barely four thirteen in the morning, Napoleon noticed as he took a quick look to the nightstand clock after his eyes had adjusted to the grim darkness of the room, light barely coming from outside the window. He was in a well-known hotel, five stars, in Vienna, investigating a scientist who claimed he had found a way of converting coffee into a gasoline-like combustible, ten times more efficient. Of course such a big claim had to be revised by UNCLE, and he had found that THRUSH - as it was usual - had heard of it as well, which only prompted Waverly to send Napoleon and Illya to look for this so called scientist and prevent THRUSH from getting their hands on his discovery. Once both agents had set their things in the room the agency had provided to them, and god they were getting cheap when they sent them to the cheapest one in the hotel even if it was a five-stars one, Illya had set off to talk to a local contact while Napoleon did what he did best and tried to get friendly with the lovely daughter of the scientist who just happened to be in that same hotel for a wedding party. No harm in that. Yet, despite his best efforts to charm her into talking about his father’s most recent discovery, the young woman had a boyfriend who made it all the more difficult to approach and in the end he returned to his room, changed into his pajamas and hoped his partner would have better luck when he got back; the fact that his boss had flown all the way from New York was a disturbing thing, but his brain didn’t let him show any concern as he was trained to keep a straight face when confronting difficult situations.

It wasn’t even clear enough for him to watch his boss’ face, so he thought a light would help him with the task of making their conversation less heavy. The older man must have thought the same, for in a moment he had turned on a lamp next to the table he was sitting by, the change in lighting making Napoleon blink a few times to regain full control of his pupils.

-I think by the time the proper greeting would be ‘good morning’, sir - the agent mentioned casually as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, feet setting on the floor as he mentally prepared to hear whatever news his boss had.

Yet, before any of them both had a chance to say anything else, his partner came out the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxer briefs and using a towel to dry his face.

-Napoleon, I think we... - the russian stopped his words as he watched in surprise why his partner had woken up at such an early hour. 

For a moment, Illya Kuryakin had thought his arrival had been responsible for waking up Napoleon. After contacting Roger Smith, one of UNCLE’s european branch agents and getting up to date with the details about the new and unusual combustible, as well as the background information for the scientist behind the discovery, the blond agent had been too tired and went back straight to the hotel room. It had been a surprise to find his partner already in bed, but finding that Napoleon was deeply asleep, he suppressed the impulse of mocking him about his failed evening; instead, he took off his clothes as silently as possible and made his way to the bathroom to get a quick shower. He had just stepped out when he heard Napoleon’s voice coming from the other room, and never thought he would find his boss in there too.

Waverly looked at the blond agent and then back at Napoleon, who was still sitting on the bed while staring at his partner with both confusion and astonishment. 

-Sir, I didn’t hear you arrive. - Illya commented as casually as possible, while his hands wrapped the towel around his waist. His tongue was dying to say the whole situation was not what it looked like, but he knew better than to let himself be guided by panic. If it was up to Illya, he would have banned the darned expression for being used ever again.

The old man smiled as he looked at them both, noticing the way the russian tried not to look uncomfortable in the current situation. To the untrained eye, Illya looked uninterested and even slightly bored, but he knew better - even more than Solo, he dared to think - and the younger man tensed up the moment he noticed his presence.

-I hope I am not interrupting something, - Waverly added with the faintest shadow of a smirk hiding in his eyes, which only got Illya coughing to cover up the heat rising on his face. His partner, on his part, didn’t seem to notice anything more than their boss’ usual banter, so he looked at him with attention, oblivious to what happened around him. The old man knew something, of that the russian was sure; now if only his friend knew as much, well, life would be easier for Illya. - In any case, I think it saves us time for you two to be here right now. The information I have is of great importance…

Well, there went Illya’s night.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, first time posting a napkin fic here. How awesome is that? This may be taken as a one-shot, ficlet or whatever, but I am probably going to work around a bigger story from here.


End file.
